


Experiment

by psykedelic



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psykedelic/pseuds/psykedelic
Summary: Psyche was curious.





	Experiment

Psyche was curious. For as long as he could remember, since Esper had brought him _here_ with his other selves, he’s seen a few things he could classify as _different_. At first, it was perplexing, seeing different versions of himself, from distant time paradoxes. Before he knew it, Psyche’s found himself adjusting to these conditions – not that he’s complaining; he’s achieved greater accomplishments together then he could have alone.

More so then that, he’s seen _himself_ , in a sense, happy with… _himself_. Indeed, a concept Psyche can hardly wrap his head around, but _somehow_ , it worked. Inquisitive, young, _inexperienced_ Psyche found himself curious how Psyker could bring such happiness to Esper and Mastermind. The subtlest of touches, whenever their eyes would connect, the bright smiles they wore, their expression could only be described as full of _joy_.

And true to his nature, Psyche was _intrigued_. Esper, Mastermind, _and_ Psyker always looked the happiest together. It made him wonder, could Arc, Time, and himself ever reach that same conclusion?

Psyche pondered the thought, eyes upturned to the ceiling as he thought. He thought, and thought, and thought, leaning back on the back two legs of his chair, legs kicked up on the table. He fiddled with a hand gripper absently, his workout for it routine and his arm mostly used to the motion.

“We eat on that table.”

Psyche had not been expecting company. He couldn’t help the strangle yelped that left him, body jerking as he jumped in his seat. Another cry as his chair tipped back, taking him down with him, and a loud _oof!_ when he connected to the floor.

“… Idiot.”

Psyche winced at the throbbing against his back, not bothering to get up just yet. He breathed slowly, trying to focus his attention away from the pain. He closed his eyes for a moment, gritting his teeth as he raised a hand to his head, groaning as it throbbed to his touch.

“Dammit…”

Footsteps approached him, slow and steady, before Time crouched over him, expression as default and aloof as ever. He looked thoroughly unimpressed, though Psyche supposed that wasn’t anything new.

“That’s what you get for having your feet on the table,” Time scoffed, his one visible eye rolling as he stepped back. Psyche pushed himself up by his arms, grumbling some incoherent complaint that Time ignored. He walked away from the other tracer, heading further into the kitchen.

It was only the two of them present. Psyche perked up at the realization, his thoughts from earlier coming back full swing. He quickly stood up, following the other. If Psyker could make Esper and Mastermind happy, could Psyche do the same with Arc and Time?

Only one way to find out.

Psyche opened his mouth to call out for the other, the question at the tip of his tongue – yet for some reason, he couldn’t find the words to phrase what he was trying to convey correctly. His eyebrows knitted together, his bottom lip jutting out as he took a moment to think.

Time, meanwhile, perched himself on the counter, setting Psyche with another one of his bored expressions. Despite his demeanor, Time seemed as if he were _waiting_ \- a notion that stumped Psyche. Time hardly enjoyed interacting with the others, could barely stand any as it is, and yet, the dumb look Psyche currently had on his face made him _curious_.

“… What?” He asked warily, suspicion laced in his voice.

“Wha–?” Psyche’s response was immediate, taken by surprise that Time addressed him. The other tracer bristled at his inarticulate response, glaring at him. Psyche forced himself not to flinch, his eyebrows raising at the look. “S-Sorry –”

“Shut up.” Another scoff, as Time turned his head away, nose upturned and scowl present. Psyche’s shoulders slumped, unable to hide the hurt and sadness he openly expressed. How stupidly honest Psyche could be, a look similar to a kicked puppy, it was irritating. It irritated Time how much it made his chest prickle with some unnerving emotion, one he scarcely wanted to humor.

Psyche shuffled awkwardly on his feet, eyes looking anywhere aside from Time’s scrutinizing and calculative gaze. It was the look he always wore when something of interest crossed his path - a rare feat that hardly ever happened. Unfortunately, Time looked _annoyed_ for whatever reason, causing the hairs on the back of Psyche’s neck to raise, his shoulders squared as he waited -

“Spit it out.”

Psyche hardly had enough time to stop his immediate shock from forming, though couldn’t help the small step back he did. Time continued to look more and more _agitated_ with him, patience running thin as he _waited_ for Psyche to _do something_.

“You’re like an open book. Something’s troubling you. Spit it out.” Time always spoke so crude and straight to the point, never beating around the bush and always impatient. He had better things to do then _socialize_.

Psyche found himself tongue-tied. His mouth felt dry; he swallowed hard, pursing his lips as he wondered how to say what was on his mind.

He couldn’t be straightforward like Time, he wasn’t good with words like Arc. Right now, he had a raging urge to do _something_ , but he didn’t know _what_ it was. He was anxious, almost scared, worried to the point of being frozen in place, unable to move, unable to even breath –

“For goodness sake, Psyche, stop overthinking whatever it is and just _do it_.”

Psyche took a deep breath, his hands balling to fists as he did his best to calm down. Time had a point; he _was_ overthinking this. Did Psyker ever think before he acted? Psyche was certain he hardly ever did. So, Psyche stepped forward, his mind shifting into auto pilot, letting his adrenaline-fueled instincts take over.

Time’s suspicion rose as Psyche approached, reeling away the closer Psyche came. An insult was at the tip of his tongue, his own hands curling against the smooth counter as Psyche came _intimately_ close to him. Psyche’s hands rested on Time's knees, spreading his legs apart to make room for himself, and Time found himself astonished.

Time’s breath hitched, caught in his throat, resisting the urge to shudder as Psyche’s hands traveled up his thighs, pressing against his hips and pulling him closer. The time tracer fought hard against the rising heat gracing his cheeks, biting the inside of his cheeks as his body pressed flush against Psyche’s, the psychic tracer’s head reaching just under his chin.

“What –” The question died on his lips, mouth gaped opened as he stared at Psyche in embarrassed desperation. Psyche’s hands were shaking, his nerves on edge, as he bit his bottom lip. He didn’t miss the way Time’s eye flickered down to see the motion, watching Psyche this whole time as he pressed closer to him, didn’t miss the way Time’s own body was shaking – in anticipation, or disgust, Psyche wasn’t sure.

Time hadn’t pushed him away though, so Psyche took that as something positive. One hand stayed at his waist, the other traveling up his back, fingers trailing over his spine. The shudder that ran through Time’s body was rewarding, his thighs almost instinctively closing against Psyche’s body. Time’s eye scrunched close, his head ducked down as a quiet _whine_ left his lips – and Psyche couldn’t be more pleased.

Feeling brave, the hand teasing his back reached for Time’s hair, happily surprised to discover his hair was just as soft as he had imagined. He played with the base of his neck, rolling strands of it between his fingers, nails digging into the skin. Time reeled, arching his back and pressing closer to Psyche, another little _mewl_ leaving him as his head forward, rejecting the touch yet craving it.

Psyche couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward, body as close as humanly possible to Time’s, pulling the other tracer closer and pressing their lips together.

Time _melted_ into the kiss, fitting snug against Psyche as he wrapped his legs around him, wanting him even closer. Time was so desperate, hands gripping the front of Psyche’s shirt, his knuckles turning white as he pulled and pulled, wanting him even _closer_.

Psyche jumped slightly at the sensation of Time’s tongue against his lips, the time tracer hardly giving Psyche a choice as he forced his tongue through his lips, desperate and aggressive. A shaky noise of approval, a sound Psyche wasn’t sure who made, in a tone that made his skin crawl in delight.

He wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes, their kiss a frantic need to satisfy something they both wanted, and Psyche found it hard to breath.

Kissing Time felt _amazing_.

His lungs burned, his skin was on fire, the blood rushing in his ears as his heart increased in tempo. He didn’t want to _stop_ –

Time’s eye snapped opened, tearing away from Psyche. The psychic tracer had enough time to open his eyes, wide in shock, at the thoroughly embarrassed, red beat expression Time wore, before the time tracer’s foot collided with his chest, sending him through the portal he had opened behind him.

* * *

Time refused to leave his room ever again, no matter how many times Psyche knocked. Whenever Psyche did happen to stumble upon him, Time’s reaction was immediate. His usual disinterested expression quickly turned pale, looking panicked, his single eye going wide, before the blush would set in. Time would dash away before Psyche would even have the chance to approach.

The psychic tracer was discouraged. Maybe it was a mistaken, acting without thinking, not considering the other tracer before simply _going_ for it.

“That’s the tenth sigh in the span of the last five minutes, Psyche.”

Psyche hadn’t even realized it himself, and he resisted the urge to sigh again. He stretched his upper body over the coffee table, head pressed down against its cold surface.

“What’s wrong?” Arc hardly spared him a glance, too engrossed in the book he was reaching from the couch. Psyche lifted his head, his chin pressed against the table instead, as he pouted at the other tracer.

“I messed up,” he whined, albeit not as guilty as he most likely should have felt.

“That’s nothing new,” Arc snorted, rolling his eyes as he turned the page. He rested his cheek against his hand, book to his lap, as he still refused to look at him. “What did you break this time?”

“… Time.”

The noise Arc made was inhuman, a sharp intake of breath as his head snapped towards Psyche, eyes wide. “What?!” It was Psyche’s turn to snort, laughter bubbling in his chest as he had to wonder – did Arc think he meant _time_ or _Time._ “Don’t make such ambiguous jokes, Psyche.” Arc scowled at him, his cheeks a tinge pink.

“Sorry.” Psyche crossed his arms over the table, resting his chin on them as he met Arc’s gaze. It was easier to talk to Arc. Even though he was often composed and reserved, Arc was more open to Psyche’s presence then Time.

Arc shook his head, turning his nose back to his book. Psyche’s smile dimmed down in size, almost to a frown, at how disregarded he was. He wondered, since their relationship was more _credible_ and formed then, say, Psyche and Time’s, would Arc reject him as well?

“What did you do?” Arc asked absently, clearly more interested in his book. Psyche hummed thoughtfully, coy and playful. That caught Arc’s attention. He finally looked up, eyebrow raised as curiosity set in.

Arc had always been more of a curious body then Psyche, and any information he could obtain, he would. The arc tracer simply had to be a know-it-all.

Psyche pushed himself to his feet, trying his best to appear as nonchalant and mellow, as if they were talking about the weather. Unfortunately for him, Arc knew better. Similar to Time, Arc’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, his expression cautious as Psyche approached.

A barely audible gasp slipped through Arc’s lips, his body on high alert as Psyche leaned over him. His knee pressed between Arc’s legs, a hand pushing the stunned tracer against the armrest. Psyche followed his motion, his lips gingerly touching Arc’s.

Arc’s reaction was immediate. He wrenched away from Psyche, hands reaching for Psyche’s shoulders and shoving him back. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?!”

Psyche flinched at the accusatory tone in Arc’s raised voice, shrinking away from Arc to the other end of the couch. Arc pulled completely away from Psyche, curling defensively into himself as he glared so viciously at him – it scared the psychic tracer. “You audacious _jerk!_ What –”

Psyche’s hands clasped over his ears, shrinking more into himself as Arc _seethed_. He didn’t understand – why was Arc so mad? Was Time also mad? Had he approached this wrong?

How could Psyker make Esper and Mastermind that happy, while all Psyche could do was incur Arc and Time’s wrath?

Psyche didn’t understand – he only wanted Arc and Time to _smile_ , wanted to be the one who brought it to their faces, wanted to see it for himself.

Why did it turn out this way?

Psyche’s fingers threaded to his hair, pulling at it as he buried his face into his knees. He couldn’t hear Arc’s voice anymore, couldn’t be bothered to tune back in to what he was saying. He messed up again, made Arc _and_ Time uncomfortable, and ruined everything –

“—Psy.”

Psyche flinched at the nickname, pressing more into himself. An adored pet name Psyche loved hearing, would have been filled to the brim with pride at the affection usually laced with it, a name similar to the one Mastermind had with Psyker –

“Psy, look at it…”

Psyche’s fingers tightened in his hair, shaking his head as he gritted his teeth. He hadn’t meant for this, hadn’t meant to force himself onto Arc and Time, he hadn’t –

Arc’s gentle touch took Psyche by surprised. His body tensed at the feeling of Arc’s fingers brushing against his own, soothing, soft, coaxing Psyche to relax. The psychic tracer swallowed nervously, his heart skipping a beat as Arc’s fingers slipped through his own, lacing them together. Still, Psyche’s guard was up, waiting for Arc to continue his angry yelling.

Arc raised Psyche’s arm over his shoulder, pressing against his side as he nudged Psyche’s head with his own. Still, Psyche refused to look at him, his face buried against his knees as he waited.

“… Kiss me again, Psy.”

Psyche’s blood ran cold as shock coursed through him. His head lifted without his consent, startled into meeting Arc’s gaze as his cheeks flushed. Arc looked equally as embarrassed, looked away instantly as he awkwardly fidgeted beside him.

“Wh-What…?” Psyche’s bewilderment knew no boundaries, unable to form any sort of tangible response. Arc’s blush deepened, nervously biting into his bottom lip as he forced his gaze to meet Psyche’s. Instead of repeating himself though, he acted.

Arc tipped his head forward, lips ghosting over his own for half a second, before quickly pulling again. Psyche didn’t let him get far. He chased those lips, clumsily colliding against Arc and knocking him onto his back. Arc’s fingers tightened around Psyche’s, pressed against the couch above his head, as his eyes screwed shut.

When Arc didn’t push him away like before, Psyche felt eager. He pressed closer to Arc, lips molding together slowly, a gentle touch in comparison to Time. The contrast was exhilarating, a different sort of excitement, one where he could take his time and enjoy this moment.

Their kiss didn’t last long, wasn’t as bold as it was with Time, lips exploring where it felt right, adoring Arc completely – against his cheek, his forehead, his temple, his nose – Arc’s face was completely shaded red.

“Psy –” Arc shifted against him, squirming under him, embarrassed and bashful as Psyche continued his demonstration. “Psy, please –” Arc tugged at his hands, shying away from Psyche’s affection as he whined.

Psyche pulled away, head tilting to the side in confusion, “Yeah?”

“This is – embarrassing –”

Psyche settled himself on Arc’s hips, releasing his grip on Arc’s hands as he found himself, once again, waiting. Arc swallowed thickly, unable to meet Psyche’s questioning gaze.

“The next time you want to kiss someone –”

Psyche jumped a mile high as Time’s fingers buried in his hair, the time tracer pulling his head back to meet his gaze instead. He didn’t look upset, and it finally clicked to Psyche what it was – Time had been _embarrassed_. Despite the scowl on his face, Time’s cheeks were flushed pink, his eye hesitate, as if Psyche was on the brink of breaching _something_ Time wasn’t used to.

“—You should use _words_ to convey what it is you want, not solely _action_.”

Even Arc was scolding him, his express defiant despite his blush. Psyche’s eyes shifted between Arc and Time, feeling ashamed of his actions and embarrassed at the same time.

“S-Sorry…”

“Accept responsibility.” Time leaned over the back of the sofa, pressing his lips against exposed collarbone, gentle at first before biting down – hard. Psyche jolted at the sensation, more so from pleasure then pain. “I can’t stop thinking about it, the moment we shared – how _intimate_ it was.” Time breathed against his skin, tongue dragging against the bone as his eye glared up at Psyche, “It’s your fault. Do something about it.”

“I –” Psyche was at a loss for words, his blushing reaching from his neck to the tip of his ears. His mouth gaped open, desperate and begging to say something in response, but nothing came out.

“How crass,” Arc grumbled from under Psyche, pushing himself up and forcing Psyche to sit in his lap, “You kissed Time first?” Feeling competitive and possessive, Arc’s lips found Psyche’s ear, nibbling the lobe and tracing it with is tongue.

The noise Psyche made was nothing short of embarrassing, shuddering as he whimpered, fingers digging into Arc’s shoulders as the two attacked his neck with nips and bites. Time’s gaze would meet Arc’s, aloof and detached despite what he was doing, and Arc’s eyebrows would narrow, a challenge he dared Time to meet.

It was sensational, _feeling_ the way Time’s lips twitched against his skin from how close he was. Time met Arc’s challenge, pressing urgent kisses against Psyche’s throat, closer and closer to Arc. Arc refused to let him win, his tongue sweeping out and tracing his jugular, taking great pleasure in the way Psyche writhed under them.

While Arc’s attention was diverted, completely consumed by Psyche’s reaction, Time attacked. His tongue slipped against Arc’s, hungry and wanton, eye meeting Arc’s as the arc tracer jolted at the forwardness. Time smirked, not letting Arc escape, even as he pulled away. Time chased him, easily slipping his tongue between his lips and kissing Arc with a fever.

Psyche watched with hazy eyes, how Arc’s eyebrows shot up, completely taken by surprise at Time’s actions. Psyche was worried, for a moment, that Arc would reject him – and was pleasantly surprised when Arc pressed back, tipping his head to the side as he eagerly slid his tongue against Time’s, fingers reaching for purchase against the time tracer’s shoulder.

This hadn’t been at all what Psyche had expected – and yet, as Arc and Time pulled away, a string of saliva connecting their small, awkward smiles, Psyche couldn’t help his own lips from stretching into a wide grin. He was utterly happy by these turn of events.


End file.
